Lady Ninja Video

Here is a link to a great Lady Ninja video on youtube.com: Lone Wolf and Cub, Lady Ninja Attack

Thank you Kunoichi Terminator for letting me know about this!

Secret Nokia Phone Codes (Part 1)

If you have a Nokia mobile phone, you can enter these codes to do some nifty tricks and find information about your handset:

IMEI (International Mobile Equipment Identity) Number:

*#06#

The 15 digit number which comes up on your screen is your unique IMEI number, and comprises the following information:

• Digits 1-6: TAC (Type approval code)
• Digits 7-8: FAC (Final assembly code)
• Digits 9-14: SNR (Serial number)
• Digit 15: SP (Spare)

Software Revision Type:

*#0000#

You will see three lines of information on your screen which are comprised of the following:

1. The phone's software version
2. The date of the software release
3. Phone type.

Service Menu:

*#92702689# (*#WAR0ANTY#)

You will find the following menus displayed:

• IMEI
• Production date (mm/yy)
• Purchase date (mm/yy). Note that you can only enter this date once!
• The date of last repair (0000 means that the handset has not been repaired, or at least not reported by an official service centre)
• Transfer user data to another Nokia phone via infared, if this feature is part of the handset.

Clock Stopping:

*#746025625# (*#SIM0CLOCK#)

This checks wether your phone supports this feature. Key in again to restart the clock.

Activate EFR (Enhanced Full Rate)

*#3370#

This activates EFR which increases clarity but decreases battery life by around 5%. To deactivate, key in *#3370*.

Activate HRC (Half Rate Clarity)

*#4270#

This decreases the clarity of calls, but increases battery life. To deactivate, key in *#4270*.

More Nokia tips and tricks to be published later.

Technorati tags: gsm, gsm tricks, nokia secrets, mobile phones, technology
, imei

Concerns about tracking mobile phones

If your mobile phone is on the Vodafone network, try keying this into your mobile phone:

*#102# (then press call or send).

You should receive a message back telling you your location area code and the nearest transmitter to you. This doesn't work on all phones, but it is interesting when it does. Basically, what you have just done is what anyone with access to your mobile phone network can do at any time: find out exactly where you are.

Of course, this can be a useful feature of modern technology. Imagine your car has broken down and you're not sure where you are; certain recovery agencies can locate you from your mobile phone signal. The police can track criminals, and locate stolen handsets.

What worries me, however, is the growing number of companies offering services where an individual can track another's location through their mobile phone. Generally this is aimed at parents wanting to ensure their children's safety, or companies tracking employees. Yet a recent article in the Guardian newspaper highlights the risk that people may be abusing this facility to track people without their consent:

I can't quite believe my eyes: I knew that the police could do this, and
telecommunications companies, but not any old random person with five minutes
access to someone else's phone. I can't find anything in her mobile that could
possibly let her know that I'm checking her location. As devious systems go,
it's foolproof. I set up the website to track her at regular intervals, take a
snapshot of her whereabouts automatically, every half hour, and plot her path on
the map, so that I can view it at my leisure. It felt, I have to say,
exceedingly wrong. (Ben GoldacreWednesday February 1, 2006)

It seems that anyone with just a few minute's access to another's phone can set up this service without consent. Of course, most of these companies state that regular messages are sent to the receiptant's handset to ensure they are aware of the tracking, yet I fear such services may elicit much abuse of privacy. For example:

Your mobile phone company could make money from selling information about your
location to the companies that offer this service. (Ben Goldacre)

Or worse, you could be tracked without your knowledge by your partner, your boss, a malicious stalker... The best advice is this: if you suspect someone could be tracking you, call your service provider and ask them. By law, it should not be done without your consent.

Technorati Tags: info, security, technology, gsm, mobile phones,
privacy, big brother,

Watching the Crow fly

Today I sat in the park, gazing up at the sky. It was warm and sunny, like the calm after the storm last night. Except there was no thunderstorm last night. At least, not in regard to the weather. Last night I was almost at breaking point. It takes a lot to get me to that stage. It is completely unlike me to start an argument, to shout and slam doors and swear. it took a few months of suspicion, a friend's confidence, and overhearing a phone call which finally pushed me over the edge. I can't prove what I know about my husband's behaviour, and I didn't mention it explicitly. But he knows my suspicions, and he knew what to do about them. He went out for a while, and when he came home, I knew without having to ask that he is wholly mine again. I sobbed in his arms while he held me. There were tears in his eyes when he told me he was sorry, and that he loved me more than anything in God's creation In the park, a crow flew past as I watched the sky. It flapped it's wings once and glided for so long, so far, without even a tremble through its feathers. Such a slow descent, all around the park and across the field, until it neared the tree on which it wanted to land. Then just a few flaps to gain height before it landed, serene and still again. I realised we had much in common. I can glide for months, ignorant of the breeze and the noise and the threats. But every so often, I need to flap my wings to get me where I want. Then I am calm and serene once again.

Ninja Videos

Like many other bloggers, I have been enthralled by the Urban Ninja videos from youtube.com, which you can see below: Here is a link to another great video featuring two martial artists having the BEST light saber fight I have ever seen!: http://spikedhumor.com/articles/23299/Star_Wars_Duel.html Okay, I know that such videos have really been doing he rounds on Blogger, but they are really appropriate for my site, and anyone who hasn't seen them yet really should! PS: My search for a cool Kunoichi video has yet been unsuccessful, so if anyone has one, I would love to post it in this blog!

Finding and Tracing UK phone numbers

Finding or tracing personal phone numbers in the UK is no easy task. I don't pretend to know all the answers, but I can offer a few useful tips.

Let's divide this article into three sections:

• Finding a number, when you know the name of who you want to call
• Tracing a number, for when you want to know who has called you.
• Avoiding your own number being found or traced.

Finding a phone number:

The first place most of us look when trying to find someone's number is BT Directory Enquiries. Despite being charged to call this service, it is still free to use online. Ideally, you will need to know the surname, first initial and the town (or you will almost certainly end up with more results than you can manage!). 192.com also alows you to search the telephone directory for free, and is often more useful if you want to search nationwide rather than just in one place.

However, more and more people these days choose to be ex-directory (their home phone numbers are not publically listed). If you think this might be the case, you could try searching for the name of anyone else who might live with the subject. Also, try searching for the person online as described in my previous article to see if anything comes up. But be warned: if someone doesn't want to disclose their home phone number, you are unlikely to be able to find it!

Finding a mobile phone number is even more difficult as there is currently no obligatory listings directory for mobile phone numbers. However, there are a couple of websites where people can submit their details and consent to being listed:

• Mobile 118
• Mobile Phone Numbers

Tracing a phone number:

In the US, there are several services which enable you to reverse look up any phone number. However, in the UK, this is almost impossible for the average citizen.

BT will look up a number on your phone bill for you if you submit a query, and will trace nuisence calls to your landline. However, they cannot tell you who a number belongs to if you cannot offer one of these reasons for your query.

UK Phone Info can trace landline numbers to a location and offer some basic information about mobile numbers on their website. This is the only UK Phone number lookup I have found which offers services to UK based numbers, and though basic it can be helpful if you already have an idea about who the number may belong to.

Investigative Resources boasts that it can trace any (or at least, most) phone numbers in the UK, including mobiles. But this service comes at a very high price!, so only use this as a last resort!!

You could always try calling the number and ask who it it belongs to!

On that note, a friend of mine believed his girlfriend was cheating on him. He found a particular number on her phone bill and decided to find out who the number belonged to. Concerned that he would get hung up by asking directly who the answerer was, he said that he was Mr. Smith of such-and-such company looking for participants for a paid market research campaign. From this call, he got all the information he wanted: name, address, even date of birth! However, I must warn you careful reader, that I am unsure of the legal integrity of this act, after all, my friend was impersonating someone and elicited the said information by misleading!! (In other words, don't try this at home!).

Avoiding your own number being found or traced:

For any number of reasons, you may decide that you don't want people to find your own number. The first and easiest way to do this is to ask that your home telephone number be ex-directory so that no-one can find you in any directory. Ask BT (or your own service provider) not to include you in the UK phone directory. This is a free service, so you should not be charged.

Additionally, you may like to take advantage of the Telephone Preference Service which allows you to opt out of nuisence telemarketing calls; this is a free service which you can activate online.

With regards to your mobile number, as I mentioned before there is no compulsory directory of mobile numbers, so just be careful that you don't include yourself voluntarily in any! Many Pay as you Go sim cards do not need registration details (Orange always ask before activation, though!) so this gives an extra degree of privacy to your details.

There may be instances where you need people to be able to call you, but you prefer not to give out your personal number, for example, when running a business from home. There are many companies which offer free 0845 numbers and calls to your number are diverted to the landline of your choosing. This can also be useful when moving home as you can take your number with you!

In order to stop your own call being traced, the easiest solution is to key in "141" before the number you wish to call (withholding your number); this can be done on any landline or mobile, though apparantly some payphones do not allow callers to use this function. However, more and more people choose not to accept calls from anonymous callers, and your call may not be put through. There are a few ways around this problem:

• Use a payphone, or another phone which can't be traced back to you.
• Use a calling card: many international phone cards route you through another number so effectively your own number does not come up. Do test this first though, as this is not the case for all such cards.
• Call through a switchboard if you have access to one, for example at work. In this case, the number comes up as "unavailable", rather than "withheld". Again, check this works with your chosen switchboard by calling your own phone first!

I hope the information in this post is useful to you, whatever your telephony need. Below are a few links which may help with any other issues:

• Search for free 0845 numbers
• Trace malicious calls
• UK phone info

Technorati tags: tracing calls,security,privacy,find number,

How to find someone online...

...And avoid being found yourself!

In the days before the world wide web had invaded our lives and homes, tracking people down was a difficult and costly matter. But now, we live in the 21st century: almost everyone has an online presence in one form or another. It has become relatively easy to find someone online, if you know where and how to look. The down side, of course, is that other people can track us down too...

By learning how to track people down (long lost friends, relatives, debtors...) you can also understand how not to let your personal information be discovered by others.

********

Let's say we are trying to track down Jolene Bloggs (a fictional name of course!). Note down any information you have about them: full name; aliases and nicknames; last known location; schools and clubs attended; company name, etc... This information is useful when conducting your searches, as we will discover leter on.

But where do we go from here? The first and easiest port of call would be to type the name into a search engine such as Google or Altavista and see what comes up. This is easier and more effective when the person has an unusual name. Otherwise, you may come up with a list of hundreds of people from around the globe who may have no bearing on your search. You should type the name between "comment tags" for best results; you can also search for aliases, nicknames and surname only too. From here, you may find a few leads on your chosen trace: homepages, alumni inclusions and such. If the list is long, you could repeat the search including more information, such as the name of the company they work for, or the last school they attended.

Still no luck?

More information can be found by visiting the company/school/university/club home page (if you know them) of the person you are seeking. It is always a good idea to search Friends Reunited and Classmnates Reunited to see if they are listed too.

You can search the residential phone directory online for free, which details names and addresses. Usually you will need to know the town and preferably the first initial of the person for a good result. However, many people choose not to be listed in the public phone book to ensure that canvessers and unwanted callers cannot track them down at home.

By law, anyone eligable to vote in the UK should be registered on the electoral roll. You can search this online (usually for a fee) at 192.com and Electoralrolluk.co.uk. Searches on these websites can often bring up others who are registered at the same address, and include historical registrations as well as current ones.

Google Groups is an interesting place to search. You can find lots of information in this place as it holds records from bulletin boards from the early nineties onwards. Try searching for names, clubs and societies, places and companies relative to your search to discover any useful leads.

But what if you don't want to be traced online yourself?

The most important thing to do is never post anything personal about yourself online, eg: address, postcode, personal phone numbers, date of birth, and is possible, your real name. This may seem elementary logic, but you would really be surprised how many people actually do open their hearts online, especially on home-pages and chat rooms. Identity theft is a common threat. Be very careful about what you make public knowledge! Here are some further tips:

• Search for yourself online. If you are concerned about the publication of any personal information you find online, ask the web page's webmaster to remove it and check that it has been done.
• Use aliases on chat rooms and bulletin boards. Never give out your personal information in a profile and ensure that any membership details are kept in a secure database.
• Remember that no-one can use or publish your personal information without your permission, so do ensure you read the terms and conditions of online memberships fully before commiting to them.
• Ensure that your telephone numbers are ex-directory.
• If you prefer not to have your details on the public electoral roll (which anyone can search!), then opt to be included only on the "edited register" where your details are kept private. Companies can still verify your address with your permission (for cretit applications, for example), but Joe Bloggs can't find out where you live. However, historical editions of the electoral roll cannot be edited.

I found this post interesting when researching this subject, basically it's a case study of what could happen when someone searches for you online. A little bit spooky for my liking...

In conclusion, here are some useful links to help you trace (and avoid being traced!) online:

• People Search: Search for people in the UK
• Electoral Roll Information: Find out more about the electoral roll, the edited register, and how your details are used.
• UK Phone Information: The only UK based site I have found which helps to trace phone numbers, including mobiles.
• People searching techniques: More information on this subject.
• People search engines: More methods of searching for people online.

Technorati tags: kunoichi,online security,tracing someone,privacy,

A note on the Sorry story...

Writing the "Sorry" story brought back such memories, many of them wonderful, and some I would rather forget! I began writing it in order to inspire myself for forthcoming fictional projects, but it also helped serve the purpose of putting some ghosts to rest. I know there's no point in wondering what could have been. My memories serve to teach me about who I am today and which mistakes never to make again. These days, I am probably happier than I have ever been. At the very least, I can say I am more content. There are other such stories of lost love I want to tell, in part because they inspire me to write. I want to speak of them here so that they are not strictly secrets anymore. If I were to die tomorrow, these memories would be lost except for the words I write here...

Sorry, part seven: Epilogue

Links to the rest of this story: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven I was fourteen when I first saw The Crow with my uncle at the cinema. Of course, I'd dolled myself up to the nines to pass for the 18 rating: full make up, fancy hairdo. I'd even worn stockings for the occasion, somehow convincing myself that it made me look older. Whatever the case, it worked. I sat entralled through the whole film; my eyes brimmed with tears, and as the film ended, I gasped as though I'd been holding my breath the whole time. The magic of that film has remained with me ever since; that tale of true love and hopeless revenge replayed over and over in my mind so that now I could probably tell you every word which was spoken. During the course of our "encounters", some of my enthusiasm for the movie must have rubbed off on Sorry, for he bagan to model himself on the romantic Gothic image. He grew his hair long, learned to play the guitar and even wore make up for big nights out. Could he have ever known that he had become my perfect man? It was a cruel twist of fate that I was never again to have him for myself... In the years since we had parted, so many other things had happened in my life: that doomed love affair with Fumitsu; the realisation of my Kunoichi ambitions, my academic career... and my emergence as a sauna "hostess". For some time, I felt happy and contended. As a student at university, I was doing well, quite proud of the fact that I had gone against the odds and managed to get myself there on my own merits. My son was growing strong and bright; luckily he looked nothing like his father whom I hated so much, but instead has such a gorgeous face and dark eyes which I can only presume he has inherited from some ancestor of mine I've never met. Money was no longer scarce: in one shift at the sauna, I could earn more than the average weekly wage; despite the work I did, I felt respected; my only problem was keeping my job a secret from those I loved. One Saturday afternoon, I was enjoying my day off with my son in the park when I felt a tap on my shoulder. "Hello, babe, how are you?" I stepped back in shock. Of all the people I could have expected to meet that day, Sorry would have been bottom of the list. It was good to see each other. The years had faded my dissappointment; we talked for ages about our lives, our children, and the music which had always been our shared joy. "How about joining us tonight at the rock club?" Sorry suggested. I quickly agreed, since it had been so long since I'd seen some of my old friends who gathered there. I cancelled my shift at the sauna, feigning illness and telling myself I deserved a good night out. I expected nothing more than friendship from Sorry; a good night out, merriness and general all round rocker fun. It surprised me to see how many new friends Sorry had made: during those years he'd established his name as a rock singer and had gigged many nights at the pub in which we met. He'd become a success, and I was so pleased for him. The stereo played a song of his that years ago I'd helped him to write... "So, what about your little boy then?" Sorry started, a few beers later. "You know, he should have been mine..." I shook my head and smiled wistfully. "Now, Sorry, that's no way to talk. You have your own family now and your're happy. You and I were never meant to be." "I know," he replied. "But it doesn't stop me wondering what could have been." We danced for hours, all of us, old and new friends together. I asked Sorry why Maria hadn't joined us that night. Surely she knew I was going to be there, and in her shoes I would have been right by Sorry's side to make sure the night ran smooth. "She just didn't feel like coming tonight," he answered. But I wasn't convinced by the secretive tone of his reply.He kept catching my eye across the dance floor, and I tried to think nothing of it. It's just the drink, I convinced myself, Sorry's with Maria now. I hadn't told Sorry about the sauna, reiterating the story I gave family and friends that I worked the night shift at the University library. At least I knew none of them could catch me out on that score. But unfortunately, we ran into one of my clients in the club we went to later, and though I tried to hint that I wasn't "on duty" that night, the sod just wouldn't get off my case. Sorry and his friend, Andy, came to my rescue, and it almost ended in a fight. fearing we'd be kicked out anyway, we all decided to make a hasty exit and head for the taxi rank. We'd all been having a great time, laughing and talking as we walked, until I felt Sorry grab my hand and pull me back. "I need to talk to you about something," he whispered. He waited a few moments until the others were out of earshot, then stepped closer to me, so close we were almost touching. "Maria will be expecting you home soon." "I know." His fingers moved to stroke the hair from my face. I closed my eyes; this couldn't be happening... "I know. I should be getting home now. But I can't stop thinking about you." Cruel fate. I wanted him so badly, but I knew it would be wrong. I tried to back away, but then his arm was at my back, pulling me closer. I could feel his heart pounding through his chest, and then his lips upon mine. Hungry kisses... "I never stopped feeling this way for you," he said, "and I know you feel it too.." He was right. So right. "You know how I feel, Sorry. But I can't say those words to you again..." Not while you're still married, I thought. I can't say 'I love you' when you belong to someone else. Somehow, my common sense had flown out the window, and for the first time in months I was succumbing to a man because I wanted to, and not because I was being paid. Sorry's caress was sending shivers down my spine. We moved into the shadows of a doorway, both trying hard not to submit too quickly to our desires, yet understanding it was inevitable. His shirt had come undone; for the first time in so many years I felt the sublime touch of his bare skin upon my own. His warm touch travelled up inside my skirt; I gasped as those first throes of passion swept though my whole body. "I want you so much," I whispered. Right then, right there... We came so close. Then suddenly, he pulled away. I saw a tear on his cheek, glistening in the moonlight. "I'm sorry. I've got to go." I asked what was wrong, was it something I'd done? He turned away from me, not letting me see his face. "I need to make sure you get back safely," he replied. I didn't wave goodbye as the taxi pulled away. Even now, I still don't know what went wrong. Was I coming on too strong? I had expected nothing from him that night; even when he made the first move, the best I would have hoped for was a one night stand. Never in my life would I have ambitions of breaking up a marriage. Just one night with Sorry was more than I could have dreamed of having... Afterwards, I discovered that Peter had come back to look for us, that he'd seen us in our embrace. But as far as I know, Maria never found out. I would never have wanted her to. Sorry is happily married; no matter what my selfish desires, I know I could never get in the way of that. Some months later, we met again, by accident, in the park. "About what happened that night," he began. But I stopped him there. "Nothing happened that night," I told him. "As far as I'm concerned, we just got drunk, had a great night out, and then you went home to your wife. Nothing happened." I said this with no malice, though I'd pined for him for days. In his eyes, I saw relief. If he'd been worried about my telling Maria, at least I'd put his mind at rest. Yet still, I can't help but wonder if he meant anything he'd said to me that night. If some part of him still feels anything for me. One of the hardest lessons in life that I have learnt is that you can never hold on to true love. It slips through your fingers, or else it fades in time to become something else...

Sorry, part six: The Aftermath

Links to the rest of this story: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven The more I write this story, the more I realise just how big a part of my life Sorry has been. If I were to write about him in only one part, it would be too long a dialogue to read. Even now I find myself missing out gret chunks of our history, if only to get across my story in brief. When I left Jack, I realised there were only two good things which had emerged from our turbulent relationship: my beautiful son, and my realisation that I was strong enough to make something good of my life. Other than that, I was lost. I no longer had a place to call home. I'd had to give that up along with Jack and most of my belongings. All I had in possession to my name were the clothes I was wearing, my son's pram and a small bag of baby clothes. We had to build our lives again from scratch. For a couple of weeks, we stayed in the caravan next to my parents' home as they truly had no other place to put us up. It was hardly an ideal situation, so a few weeks later we decided to lodge with an old friend, Louise, until somewhere more permanant could be found. When things had finally settled down, I deided to call Sorry, just to let him know Jack and I had split, that we were okay, we'd come through. Underlying, of course, was the notion that we were both single. Even though I was a single mum, I hoped there could be at least a possibility... We arranged to meet at the precinct where we could get a drink and chat. I arranged a babysitter for my son, spent hours trying to make myself look good without appearing as though I'd made too much effort. I tried to be fashionably late, hoping he'd be waiting for me. But there was no sign of him. Nor was there two coffees later. Iwas getting ready to give up and leave when I saw him come through the doors, flushed and anxious as though he'd been in a great rush. "Sorry I'm late," he explained. "Something came up. Well, actually, there's someone I'd like you to meet..." I just wasn't prepared for her. A let down I could take. "Let's just be friends," or "I just don't fancy you!". Anything but Maria. She sauntered into the cafe like an angel floating on the air, elegent even in jeans and a sweater. Sorry put his arm around her waist and I knew i was doomed. Sorry introduced me as his "old friend". I wonder if he noticed the pain in my eyes as I stuggled so hard not to let the tears show. "I'm really that you found someone special," I told him afterwards. And I was being honest, I wanted Sorry to be happy. But in my heart, I'd hoped he could be happy with me. We met again by accident when he popped round to see Louise not realising I would be there. He was so cheerful that day, showing off the photograph he had in his wallet of Maria, telling everyone how gorgeous she was, , how elated he felt that they'd met. I could only stand it for a few minutes before I had to get out of there. Louise knew how I felt, she watched me with pity as I made some excuse about needing to visit Mum, hiding my face with my hair. A few yards down the road, Sorry caught up with me, asking if I was alright. I couldn't tell him, it would be so unfair, but I think he guessed. He gave me a hug and said we could still be friends. But that was the last time I saw him for four years. I read about his marriage to Maria in the newspaper when it featured an article about his dramatic proposal after his first gig in a local bar. I was glad we weren't in contact then. No doubt, Sorry would have wanted his 'old friend' at his wedding, but even then I don't think I could have coped well without making a fool of myself in his presence. No-one understood my melancholy. I didn't dare tell I was still in love with the ghost of my past...

Sorry, part five: The Angel of Night

Links to the rest of this story: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven My beautiful son was born in Early July. And though I'd hoped he would make things better between Jack and myself, the situation became increasingly worse. Until, exactly seven days after the birth, there was a knock at the door. I almost fainted with shock when I saw Sorry standing in the doorway. He'd grown taller, his hair was longer. His smile melted me. "Can I come in?" It turned out that Sorry had moved into a flat just down the road from where we were. I was so glad to see him, least of all because I'd realised by then what a huge mistake I'd made in letting him go. Most of all, I was glad that his presence meant that Jack wouldn't hurt me as much. I knew I was safe when he was there. Sorry came to visit almost daily in the following months, pretending to be there for Jack, though whenever he left the room, Sorry would ask if I was okay. He knew what was going on, even though I never told him. But one day, he saw what was going on for himself. Sorry had brought his friend, Peter, so the guys could watch the match together on our TV. Jack became possessive, not leaving my side for an instant and making snide remarks to demonstrate his possession. He took it a step too far, putting his hands up my shirt in front of the others, so I decided it best to take myself upstairs to bed. Moments later, he followed me up, accusing me of all sorts of misdemeanors I couldn't possibly have done. He tore the sheets from over me. I think he would have raped me then and there if I hadn't cried out. Seconds later, Sorry was upon him, pulling Jack away and almost kicking him down the stairs. "If you ever hurt her again, I'll kill you!" he said to Jack. He asked if I wanted to leave, but Jack whispered in my ear that he'd hunt me down if I ever tried to take his son away, and I was too scared to put it to the test. A few weeks later, we were shopping in Town when Jack suddenly started spouting off about how he knew there was something going on between Sorry and I. Of course there wasn't, jack would never allow the opportunity for me to go to the shops alone, let alone have time for an affair! Perhaps he saw it in my eyes that in my heart at least, he was right. Or perhaps he just went mad with the demons again. Jack grabbed me by the throat and tried to strangle me, right there in public, while busy shoppers looked on astonished at the sight. When I finally broke free, I ran and ran in a moment of confusion and terror which seemed to last a lifetime. The I realised in a panic worse still that I had left him alone with our son! Immedietly I went back to get him, feeling that I'd wrench him from the pram and take him with me, away from that monster, no matter what the cost to myself. But he'd already gone. I searched and searched and couldn't find him. So I went home and hoped he'd already be there. There was still no sign of them. So I did the only thing I could think of. I went to Sorry's flat and begged him for help. Sorry was my angel on that day. He held me while I wept and called up to the house any number of times but still Jack and the baby weren't home. "Jack will never hurt the baby, I promise you," he whispered. How I wish I could have believed him, though I knew he was telling the truth. Jack would use our son against me, but never would have harmed a hair on his head. While we were waiting, Sorry told me he needed a shower. Though he'd always looked great to me, when he emerged from the bathroom he looked amazing, his long hair wet around his shoulders, only a towel around his waist. "I'll always be here for you," he said to me. "If you want to leave Jack, you and the baby can come and stay here with me." It was the perfect invitation, but I was too distraught to notice it at the time. Soon afterwards, reinforcements arrived in the form of Peter, and he told us he'd seen Jack heading home with my son. I went immedietly to be with him, and in Jacks presence I was too scared to leave with my son in y arms. Sorry checked in from time to time to make sure I was okay, but it was another year before I finally plucked up the courage to leave, and by that time, his offer had expired.

Sorry, part four: The Darkest Ages...

Links to the rest of this story: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

Until I moved in with Jack, I never realised exactly what he was like. of course, there'd been warnings from various parties: my parents, fearing his bad influence; Sorry, who I thought was spoiling my (supposed) happiness; even Jack's landlady. Fool I was that I ignored them all. Three days into our new life, he became almost lethally possessive.

We'd rented a house that needed a lot of work, and the landlord had agreed to do this in the first few weeks after we moved in. It was such a warm sunny day, so I put on shorts and a skinpy T shirt, thinking nothing of it. The workmen were there that day, but these were clothes I'd always worn around Jack, no matter who had been around. There was nothing too revealing about it! But when Jack saw me coming down the stairs, he flew into a fit of rage, ordering me back upstairs and demanding that the workmen leave immedietly. "What have I done?" I begged. There was fire in his eyes as his hands closed around my neck. The world became blurred and all went black.

When I finally came around, Jack was rocking to and fro in the corner. "It was the demons", he said. "They told me to do it!" I wanted to leave, then and there, but he wouldn't let me. He told me over and over that he loved me, it would never happen again.

Never again? No. Just a thousand times more. I became more scared of what he' do to me if I left than if I stayed. And it got much, much worse, so that he wouldn't even let me go to the payphone to call my parents, or to the Doctors to collect my contraceptive pills...

A few months later, my periods stopped and I knew that I was pregnant. I was more terrified than ever, not ready for a baby with this man who seemed to love and hate me equally, while knowing there was nothing I could safely do to change my situation. There's more to that story than I'm ready to tell just now. I hate those bad memories. My hands are shaking as I type.

Sorry, part three: Darkness Rising

Links to the rest of this story: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven I tell myself that I have no regrets of what I have done, that I only regret the things I didn't do. After all, I now have a lot to be thankful for: a wonderful husband, two gorgeous children and academic success... Yet I have to admit that I wish I hadn't had to get through such dark times to arrive where I am now... So... in all honesty, I started seeing Jack to make Sorry jealous. Yet when it didn't seem to be working, I got attached to Jack, wether through habit or real love, I don't know, though at the time I was convinced it was the latter. Being housemates, Jack and Sorry were good friends and swore that girlfriends could never get between them. One day, Jack decided to put it to the test. We were all in Jack's room, listening to all the soft rock tunes we loved (and still do!) when Aerosmith's "What it takes" came on. Sorry was singing along, all the while stealing glances at me as though he were singing it for my benefit. A look passed between us, and I think we both realised then exactly what dangerous games we were playing in trying to make each other jealous. Unfortunately, jack noticed too. "I know there's nothing between you two now," he announced, trying to state a fact though we all knew thr truth was far from it. "You two could even kiss right in front of me, and I'd know it meant nothing!" It was, of course, a calculating invitation to do just that. But I couldn't, I just couldn't do it. And by the look of despairation, neither could Sorry. There was still that spark between us, it could easily become a raging fire again if we were to kiss, even in front of Jack. We were both with other people, not single anymore. Obligations and commitments we couldn't about-turn on. In my refusal, Jack got exactly what he wanted: to prove to Sorry that I was his territory now. Things had got no better with my parents. I began to yearn to be free of what I thought was their overprotective tyranny, and the only way to do that was to move out. Of course, i was only sixteen at the time, so I knew they wouldn't just let me. Of course, at the time I didn't realise that they were only thinking of my better welfare, hot-headed teenager that I was! But as things became worse at home, I began to see Jack as my way of getting out. So we looked for a place together, and I left home just before my seventeenth birthday. It was great for all of three days. Then a new form of tyranny began...

Sorry, part two: Third time lucky?

Links to the rest of this story: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven My third "encounter" with Sorry began over a year later. My friend had been teasing me about him, telling me that he'd been to visit her, how good he was looking those days... Of course, I took the bait, as she knew I would, and called him to see how he was. "Well, er, actually I'm moving out," he told me. "I've got a place across town, so I'll be leaving today." Across town? It might as well have been miles away for me, being sixteen with no transport except the city bus routes (which at the best of times were unreliable!). My first thought was that I'd lost him. He'd grown up, flown the nest. I was still living at home with my overprotective parents; still studying at school. But after a few weeks, he called me back, asked if I wanted to meet up for old times' sake. Just the two of us. We walked and talked until it began to go dark, then we sat together on an old wooden bench by the edge of the woods, watching the mists draw in mysteriously and listening to the owls. I remember how romantic it seemed there, huddled together against the chill; those soft kisses on my neck which sent shivers down my spine; our mouths meeting each other hungrily... It should have been lucky for us, that third time, happier than ever before. But, damn my teenage years! Being the eldest child, my parents felt the need to experiment with discipline, ordering me home so early under the threat of dire consequence. No way was I allowed to stay out overnight, or to visit Sorry's new home across town. I don't blame them for that, after all, they thought they were trying to protect me. Still, it came between us through sheer frustration at having barely any time alone. I curse that fateful day we split up that final time. At the time, I had a babysitting job, my only means of earning extra cash at the time, and I'd had to cancel our date that night. I called Sorry to explain but he was understandably upset, as I was equally frustrated. Though I can't remember how exactly the argument had started, I can remember how it ended: "So, you're telling me that if we don' have sex, the relationship is over?" I'd asked. He ummed and erred but I got the drift of what he meant. Three months of lusting and longing and we still hadn't hit the mark. And out of sheer frustration, I ended it for him, and hung up the phone. I waited for him to call me back, but he didn't. I thought he didn't care, but I was wrong. The trouble was, I didn't find that out until years later. It took a few days to get the stubbornness out of my system before I called him again to apologise. His housemate answered the phone, told me Sorry wasn't there. "He's out with his new girlfriend," explained Jack (again, not his real name!). Sorry's new girlfriend turned out to be one of my school friends. "Two can play that game," I thought. So in revenge, I asked Jack to meet me for coffee. From then on, my world became very dark...

Sorry, part one: My own "Sorensen Carlisle"

I was fourteen when I read a book called "The Changeover" by Margaret Mahy. I won't go much into the story, since you can read about it for yourself here), but there was a character in the story called Sorensen Carlisle, an enigmatic prefect who happened to be a white witch. Like many other young readers of The Changeover, I fell in love with the concept of this mysterious character, desperately hoping that I could meet someone like him, in spirit if not of form. Then, later in the summer, I did. His name wasn't Sorensen (Sorry for short), but I don't want to use his real name, so Sorry suits him best for this tale. We met down by the old bridge which ran across a stream close to the Bluebell woods. My two best friends had introduced me to him and the other "new guys" they'd been hanging around with. I knew as soon as we met that there was a spark between us, more meaningful than a kiss, even at that young age. Two weeks passed until we were able to meet again. As soon as we arrived back from holiday, I dashed off hoping to find him. And as I neared the old wooden bridge, I saw him, waiting for me, leant against wood with his hands in his pockets and strands of his dark hair falling over his face. Our first kiss was like fire. That first embrace at sunset as we stood by the pussy willow tree on the brow of the hill... I can remember it as vividly now as I could then. Times like that make an imprint in your mind forever... I wish that from here, I could tell a tale of true love, but teenage hormones and temperaments being what they were in me, this could never have been the case. The months passed, and all the while, Sorry was the perfect romantic gentleman. We had some great times together, but after a while I wanted more, and Sorry wasn't ready then to give it. My virginity, I lost to another man, one of my life's regrets. In the story of my life, he doesn't feature too much, since I never felt the way about him as I did for Sorry. It was a strange trick of fate that Sorry and I met on the day I'd broken up with the other man. We talked, we kissed... But this time, I wasn't ready for more, still hung up with issues about the other guy and his betrayal. I broke up with Sorry again on Valentine's day, too worked up to realise the date's significance until it was too late. My friend woke me up to it when she passed on Sorry's valentines card, torn in two with a speck of blood on the corner from the cut on his wrist where he'd torn off the band of friendship I'd made for him...

Stories and memories...

spersed with more I feel so sentimental today. Looking back at some of my previous posts and my memories, I realise I have so many stories to tell, yet I'm afraid of what the world will think of them. Since I was a child, I have loved to write. I always considered myself a writer, and in essence, I still do. Yet more recently, I have felt unable to write so much. The past few years, poetry has been my choice of expression, since I can disguise my feelings, thoughts and characters in metaphor, sensing that prose is too transparent for my peers and loved ones to handle. But I know there are stories in me, desperate to escape. Here in my blog, I am able to tell some of them. My family and friends don't know about this place, and I'm not afraid of strangers' comments, just of hurting those I love. Someday, I hope to combine stories of Kunoichi with my own; a novel half fact, half fable of the modern female ninja. So for a while, you will find my ideas and inspiration in this blog, interspersed with more "Kunoichi" type articles as you may have seen before.

Knock me for six!!!

I was just starting to feel settled into a routine again, when-Bam Bam Bam! Everything's happening at once, again! Finally, I think we've found a house to move to. I can't say for sure yet (as I don't want to tempt fate!), but it is a major possibility. But that's not all. At the same time, my hubby is selling his (legitimate) business, my brother in law is coming to stay for a month, and my Dad has been taken ill. Lately, there's been so much going around in my head, it feels like I'm going to explode! For me, moving house is more significant than having a great home for the kids. The place I live in now is where I've done most of my 'growing up'. I was nineteen when I moved in, and those eight years since have been the most significant part of my life so far. So many memories to leave behind... Not all of them good, I admit, though I will miss them. But on the plus side, it will be a new start for us all, and my husband will no longer have to cope with the ghosts of my past which linger here still... A few weeks ago, a blast from my past sent me an email. Just a quick note to see how I am. For a while, I was unsure whether or not to reply. If you've ever had a "one that got away", you'll understand why. For many years, he was a part of my life, a fleeting lover, but always one of my greatest friends. At least until that night when we almost took things a little too far. We've hardly spoken since, though it's not that we don't want to! There's too much unspoken tension between us, the kind which could be exquisite, but is far too dangerous to unleash. "S" is married, as he was on that night. And now, I am too. I wonder if his wife knows that we're still in touch? My hubby certainly doesn't. I can usually hide my feelings from him, but I'm still worried that he's be jealous to know that I'm in touch with my ex. Even so, today I decided not to burn my bridges and I sent a message back. God bless the little extra privacy which technology allows!

... And now, back from the dead!

Wow, it's been SOOOOO long since I last had the chance to post! The PC's been down for some time, then I started working again, and Lord knows what else! I am going to make the effort to try and post regularly now, though. Thanks for your posts-I didn't realise my blogging presence would be missed! Still have loads of things to catch up with online, but I hope to be back with more content over the weekend.

Back from beyond

I haven't been able to blog for a while as I've been staying with relatives in Tunisia. I've really missed my computer... I'd hoped I'd be able to get to an internet cafe over there as they're becoming more popular, but you know... Things just don't always work out like that. Surprisingly, it was very cold over there. As cold as England is right now! Coats and jumpers all day, since central heating is a rarety afforded only to hotels. I'd say it was relaxing, but not the most enjoyable "holiday" I've ever had. At least the children enjoyed themselves. I've been finding some more cool stuff on the web, which I'll blog about soon. Still have so many things to catch up with...

Free ringtones, logos and software

These days, advertisements for mobile software is everywhere you look: magazines, tv, radio, the web... These companies make a small fortune out of convincing the general public to pay for services which they could just as easily get for free. So... For those of you who don't know how to get free tones, logos, wallpaper and software for your mobile phones, here is an article for you! This is what you will need:

1. Your mobile phone.
2. A PC with internet access.
3. Appropriate software for your handset. Most mobile phones come packaged with a software CD. If yours didn't, then check out the manufacturers' website, where you can usually download this for free. Alternatively, you could use Logomanager or Oxygen Phone Manager.
4. A means of connecting our handset to your PC (data cable, bluetooth, infra-red). If you don't already have any of these accessories, then data cables are probably the cheapest option. You can pick these up on Ebay for only a few pounds. Also, these can be used to unlock your handset to other networks.

Once you have all this together, it's time to get some free software! The best way to find this is to do a Google search for "free gsm software downloads" or something like that (this is one of the best websites I've found). Alternatively visit GSM Topsitez for quick links. Get what you want and save it to your PC.

With most software, you can drag and drop files into folders on your handset. Just remember to put things in the correct folders! Games may not work if they are dropped into the ringtones folder...

And there you go: it's as simple as that. Better still, it's completely free!

In the near future, I will be setting up a website which will feature many free GSM downloads, links and the like (as well as more Kunoichi stuff!). So if anyone out there is interested, or would like to help out, then send me an email. It would be much appreciated!

"Fond memories are all I want to keep..."

Today, I almost bumped into a blast from my past. I was going back into the car park as he was walking out. Luckily, I saw him before we collided. I think I opened my mouth to say something, but the look on his face made me change my mind. So I just smiled and walked away. After all, the last time we met was hardly the best of times... I'll call him "J", for using his real name would cause us both unwanted problems. J was one of my regular clients, from my days as a masseuse. One of my best clients. He was, in fact, my "Plan B". J was a lovely man: happily married, high management, with enough spare cash to spend his spare time sourcing out the best call girls in the area. I first met him at the sauna Christmas party, when I was still new to the job. That night, I didn't have much of a chance with him. The other girls saw money as soon as he walked in through the door with his smart suit and expensive shoes. I felt honoured that he called in the next day specifically to see me. Apparantly, he'd asked one of the other girls my name, and booked an hour with me in the VIP room, complete with a bottle of champagne and a very large tip. Most clients usually wanted a quick release, a bit of tease and tickle. Nothing personal. Just a pretty girl in whom to put their dick. But J was different. He actually wanted to know about me, about my life, and especially, what I liked in bed. He promised to come and see me again, though I didn't believe him at the time. And he did. Again and again until his visits were almost a daily occurence. One day, while we were luxuriating in the jacuzzi, he made me a proposition. "You could make a lot more money than you do here," he said. "Perhaps I could help you set up your own place somewhere..." He offered to buy me a flat to use as my new "place of business", where I could keep the profits in exchange for him to be able to see me whenever he wanted. I couldn't believe what I was hearing! This rich (and I have to admit, rather good looking) man actually wanted me to be his kept woman. I know that many women in the same situation would jump at the chance, but I wanted to play it cool. It was such a big step to take, and if things didn't work out... Well, it would be a problem. That day, he kissed me on the lips. Or rather, I let him. It had always been the unspoken rule that we didn't do that. It symbolised attachment. But I suspected then that he was falling in love with me, and in all honesty, I was developing an attachment too. Though for me, it was never truly love. I didn't tell anyone about J's proposal, least of all the other girls (who would have been so jealous if they knew). He kept visiting me, and every so often he'd ask if I'd thought about it any more. But by then, other things were happening too. My boss (later to become my husband...) and I had begun to flirt, to notice how good we actually were for each other, when before our relationship had been purely "business". My emotions were all over the place. "Confusing" doesn't even come close. J had no idea that I would eventually quit work to delelop my relationship with my boss (/future husband!). The day I broke the news, we were due to meet in a hotel. I stood him up. Just didn't have the nerve to tell him. He came to the sauna to look for me. At first, I hid away, unable to deal with it. I felt like I was breaking up a love affair, not an agreement with a client. One of the other irls tried to explain what had happened, and he started to cry. I couldn't bear it. I asked for a chat in private in the office (to have gone into one of the rooms would have meant certain death for us both...) and tried to make him understand. "You know how I feel about you," he told me, though he might as well have said those three little words. They hung in the air like an echo. I wanted him to know somehow that it hadn't all been just a charade, that I did feel something for him, and though I know I shouldn't have, I gave him one final kiss. A true kiss. Then J slipped something into my hand. "If you ever need me, for anything at all, then call me. I'll always be there for you, wether you change your mind or not." I still have his card hidden away in an old purse, though I never called him. Not even when things got really bad... When I saw him today, there was a flash in his eyes of what he remembered, those words he never said. The sun has set on that phase of my life. Fond memories are all I want to keep.

A little thought can go a long, long way...

If you've read my last post, you'll probably know how angry and upset I was last night. After dreams too distorted to remember, I was still wound up this morning. I'd planned to go straight out before my husband woke up, leave him in bed and alone so he'd have time to think about what he said to me last night. But I got up late. Plan A out the window then... "I'll do the school run," he said. "I have to meet someone at 10, so I'll get straight off afterwards." Fine by me, I thought. Keep out of my way, or I might start something. Yet ten minutes later, I heard his key in the door. "Have you forgotten something?" I called. "Yes," he answered. "You." Sometimes, my husband can be so sweet. Despite my earlier coldness, he put his arms around me and gave me a loving kiss. "Does that mean I get an apology then? You really upset me last night." He looked confused. Genuinely. I can usually tell when he's putting on an act. "What did I do?" "You called me and our baby b******s." The colour drained out of his face. "What? When?" On the phone. "But I'd never call you that." Well you did. He was trying to remember. "I was playing cards with the guys last night. I said it to them because they were cheating..." I do believe he was being truthful. I'd expected some sort of excuse, or the ploy that it was a joke. He hugged us both close. "I'm sorry you thought that, he whispered. "I didn't mean it at you, honestly." Despite his faults and his moods, I do love my husband dearly. And I always give him a second chance. So I was mistaken. I didn't think he would ever say that to me... Perhaps he'll bring some flowers for me later. Despite the myth that women are complicated, we can be simple to please, and a little thought can go a long, long way.

"I am the angry ninja..."

One word, one single uttering, can say a thousand things.

I've had a really bad day. It started around midnight when the computer refused o go online. My service provider claim no responsibility for this. "It must be your PC," they say. "The line is fine, there's nothing we can do about it!".

Yea, right. It happens about once a week. I know for a fact that there is nothing wrong with my PC. Strange that I need do nothing, and the connection works again after a few hours...

Then I lost my car keys. Right when I needed them the most. They were in my bag the last time I checked. I turned the house upside down, literally. It had taken me all day to tidy, and I spent hours messing it all up again trying to find them. My husband just made things worse. When he finally arrived home, he just sat in front of the computer, ranting at me that I shouldn't just leave them around; that it was going to cost me a fortune to repair; that he was going to have to run around for me all day tomorrow to get me a new set of keys since he had the use of his cars...

What you might want to understand here is that of all my worldly posessions, my car means the world to me, on a very close par with my PC. I can't live without it. It's my independence, my means of escape. I feel like a caged tiger when I can't get out and just drive.

No car, no PC. I felt lost.

"Can't you just stop having a go and give me a hug?" I asked.

"I'm busy. I need to find a girl for this job." He nudges me away, picks up his phone and starts dialing. When the call connects, he talks sweetly with her. Please and thankyou. See you later on.

A few minutes later, he's out the door, our baby daughter toddling after him and crying "Da-Da!" He only just remembers to give her a kiss goodbye. He doesn't remember me.

Half an hour later when I'm putting my son to bed, baby darts off to the bathroom to play with the toilet brush, her new favorite mischief. I hear the rattling of keys. Lo and behold, she'd hidden them in the brush holder, and stood in the bathroom grinning like a little imp! God only knows how she managed to put them there without me noticing. She's a little ninja in training.

And miraculously, the PC decided it would suddenly start working again! Finally it seemed that things were looking up! I took a photo of our daughter smiling and texted it to my hubby, in the hope that the good news would cheer him up.

No such luck.

"What the hell were they doing in there?" He yelled.

If I'd have known the answer to that, I would have found them hours before.

"You're b******s," he said. "Both of you."

I crumpled. I couldn't believe he actually said that to me. We never swear at each other. We don't even argue (since I'm wise enough to his temperament to know how to calm things down). And we definitely don't say that to each other. Especially not about our baby, our little princess. She may be mischivous, but never that. And neither am I.

Tomorrow, he may well try to say it was a joke, that he didn't mean it in a hurtful way. But I'm not laughing. I'm hurt. And most definitely upset.

Just one word, it can say a thousand things. It says his attitude stinks lately; it says that in that moment, me, our marriage and our baby didn't mean a damn to him. It says that this could well be the first step to him turning into a true pig-headed chauvanist, and I'm not about to take it anymore. He may be in a bad mood. He might be having a bad day. But that was too much to let pass.

Seems to me that there's more going on behind the scenes than he's telling me about. I can't help but wonder if he's up to his old tricks again.

I am the angry ninja, and I'm going to find out.

Mind Control (or, how to tell when someone is lying)

This evening, I watched a fantastic TV show by Derren Brown, called The Heist. For those of you who missed this wonderful insight into the use of mind control, here is a brief synopsis: Derren Brown uses a combination of skills from the areas of NLP (Neuro-Linguistic Programming), Hypnosis, Cold Reading and he also uses a lot of Suggestion. In this program, he psycologically manipulated 3 out of 4 subjects to willingly commit "armed robbery", without ever making the direct suggestion to them. I consider Derren Brown's skills to be fantastic. Eager to learn some of the secrets of his trade, I eagerly looked at his website and found links to some of his fan sites which featured some great links regarding his psycology techniques, especially this one.

One of the things I learned from this site is how to tell how a person is thinking, or more specifically, how to tell when they are lying using "eye accessing clues".

Unfortunately, I am not the most trusting of women. Perhaps this is because I have lived the life I have, but nonetheless, I found this very useful.

Basically, when you are conversing with your subject, watch where they move their eyes when asked specific questions, and compare the movement to this chart:

Of course, this is just a guideline since every person reacts differently in a given situation. Also, these eye movements cannot tell you exactly what a person is thinking, just how they are thinking. This link gives a more detailed analysis of the technique.

Simple, but useful.

On a mission to move

It seems so contradictory that we are building our own house abroad, yet here in England, we live in a dingy, Council rented flat. We don't have much choice at the moment: we can hardly apply for a mortgage when my husband runs an escort agency for a living! And we can't afford to save up and buy outright either. But we desperately need to move. It used to be such a nice place here. On the edge of the countryside, modenised, with a great view of the valley from the window. But we need more space now: we have a new baby, and my stepchildren come to stay every weekend. Four children sleeping in one room is chaos. To make matters worse, like every nice place, this town had gradually gone downhill. On the stairwell, the local drug dealers convene every night, leaving ugly slogans and empty wrappers for my kids to find in the morning. I've had enough. It is my mission that we will move within the next three months, one way or another. I'm fed up with waiting lists and paperwork: this seeming conspiracy that the system doesn't want us to move. So I'm going to make the system work for us.

The importance of learning to hack...

The thing which taught me most about how to use my PC was learning how to hack. To the geeks out there, this will seem obvious, but I can imagine the general population to be aghast at this suggestion. For those of you out there who don't understand why hacking can be helpful to the average computer user, let me say this: Learning to hack helps you understand entirely how your computer works, and most particularly, how to prevent it from being hacked into! I am by no means a computer expert. Everything I do know has been self-taught, but for some strange reason, I am the one my friends and family turn to for help when their PC crashes or dies. Most people I know don't even have anti-virus software installed! So for those of you who don't, here is a free anti-virus program which works just as well as Norton (and doesn't eat all your pocket money either!). Aside from helping you learn all about your PC, hacking is actually quite fun! And no, you don't need to do anything illegal to learn all about it! Hacking isn't (nescessarily) about getting into the computer systems of major organisations and messing everything up! It can be as simple as changing the start-up screen on your computer, or the look and layout of your website. Carolyn Meinel's Happy Hacker series is a great place to start learning. And if you already have problems with your PC, try Castlecops for free advice to help you get things right. Believe me, its far better to learn how to do this stuff yourself than pay a small fortune for someone else to do it for you!

White Rabbit Day

My old friend, J, used to call me at the crack of dawn on the first of each month. "White Rabbit Day!" he'd yell, before I had the chance to mumble a hello. Today is the ultimate White Rabbit Day, the first of the new year. I'm a little sad that J isn't around to tell me that anymore, but I'm happy about many other things. Last night (New Year's Eve) was the first time in about a year that my husband and I have been able to go out without the kids in tow. I missed it so much! We only had a couple of hours, out drinking at a local club, but it was bliss. Recently, things hadn't been that good between us. My husband runs two businesses now, hoping that soon his day job would earn enough money so that he could quit his unscrupulous night work. Unfortunately, so far that hasn't been the case. I hadn't realised how stressed out he's been, having been concerned more with my own stress (and the fact that I hardly ever get a break from the bedlam of housewifing duties!). So it was nice that after a couple of drinks, he opened up, and we talked better than we have in a long time, about what we both want for the new year ahead. Admittedly, my husband and I have different agendas: being a foreign national, by husband hopes that one day we will all move permanantly back to his own country, while I would prefer that we keep our main home over here in England, and finally move to the house of our dreams. In order to keep peace, I agree to certain things in order to get what I want in the long run. My husband is a difficult man to position: I have to plant a subtle seed of suggestion, then wait patiently for however long it takes, until finally he says: "I've had an idea! How about we...(do what I had originally, subtly suggested)". I can't just say, "I want you to do this" because he's too stubborn for that to work, unless of course, it's something he really, truly wants to do for himself! But that side of him is a major part of why I love him so much; it makes life much more interesting to have to work for what I want from him, rather than have it handed to me on a platter. So while we were talking about the house we're building abroad next to his family home, it was lovely to hear him actually say that we may well buy a house here in England this year, so we can get out of this tiny, dingy council flat! I may well have to keep working at him to ensure the promise is kept. Once we get the money together, he will probably have that twinkle in his eye that says "new car beckoning..." and endless phonecalls from his brothers to ask when he's going to finish building our house and buy a business over there. So I've made it one of my new year resolutions to find us a decent, English home and seal the promise. I've been through a lot since we got married. It's the least I'm owed now...